


Beat the Heat

by Marigold_Magpie



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Borderlands 3 - Freeform, Calyspos Twins, F/M, Smut, That won't stop me, we know like 3 whole things about this game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-14
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2020-01-12 14:04:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18448085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marigold_Magpie/pseuds/Marigold_Magpie
Summary: The weather isn't always fair, she knows this, but this is downright brutal.





	Beat the Heat

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo The game was literally just announced and we know like hardly anything buuuuuuttttttt, Troy Calypso is a problem. OFC named Filomena.

She had hoped the blistering heat and the drenching humidity of the cursed weather would give way to cool evening air as the desert-like climate was sometime know to do. However the hellscape had decided to move from blistering to stifling instead; and the rising moon on the edge of the darkening sky brought little solace that the rest of the night would be bearable by any means.

She had meant to leave the Zealots (she doubted they would take kindly to her labeling) and their worshipers earlier in the day, but her runner had overheated two days before and she doubted, despite repairs that the scraped together albeit peppy mess would take kindly to the weather. She wasn’t keen on breaking down in the middle of the desert, so she lingered about, twiddling her thumbs and hoping that none of the rabble would touch her recently acquired Eridium and mods. 

The twins had been kind enough to allow her a blessed shower under the chilling water of the in ground piping the cobbled together...fortress? Stronghold? shanty town? She wasn’t even sure what to call the place they had built up from the dusty dry earth of the wasteland. Either was she didn’t have to worry about finding some mucked up, tepid puddle in the desert to wash off in while she was here. Her mouth nearly watered at the memory of the cold water against her warm tawny skin, now that had been a gift from the Gods. The relief had been short lived however, it only took a matter of minutes for the coolness to evaporate from her skin and by the time she had put her clothes back on sweat had already started to clingy and prick at her.

Grumbling she wipes her brow against her forearm and shifted slightly from her sprawled out position on the metal balcony. She winces as she moves, the skin on her stomach velcroing to the metal beneath her with sweat; her discomfort and frustration mounting. She slugs closer to the edge of her vantage point, getting a better look at the grounds below. 

A few followers mosey about, why they dared to in the heat she doesn’t know, but then again they were in a cult so they probably weren’t quite right to begin with. She wonders if she had a slingshot if she could pelt them with pebbles with them being none the wiser; ah her youth was calling. 

Sighing she dips her arms through the bars of her lofty perch and swung them, the sweat cooling on her heated skin, the air weaving through her fingertips a nice sensation, and for the first time today she feels her weather induced agitation dwindle. 

They really had built something quite fantastical, the twins she couldn’t deny that. She couldn’t remember if she had ever told them or not, though she’s fairly certain Troy would have brought it up on the regular if she had. They built this up out of the sand the dirt, a walled testament to their strength and fortitude. 

She’d been lucky they had trusted her enough to finally let her come and go as she pleased; though that had taken months...on top of the months it had taken for her to convince them to let her in at all. Having Hyperion stamped on the hull of your transport wasn’t exactly something that screamed trustworthy, she really need to get that thing painted. 

She tracks a follower with her fingers, a mock gun with her index and thumb, making a cocking sounds and then a ‘ka-coom’. The man waddles into one of the building none the wiser of her folderol. 

“Boom headshot.” she blew the imaginary smoke from her finger.

They had a good thing going, a well oiled machine, and that was rare to come by out here. They gave he access to their neat weapons tech and if she was lucky, Eridium (that took a lot of convincing that she wasn’t a vault hunter) and she brought them in supplies that they wouldn’t be able to get otherwise. The last haul had been some sweet ATLAS tech that she had managed to get her hands on through some of her backdoor dealings; that had scored her some nice Eridium bars and mods as payment. 

Honestly being a transporter wasn’t that bad, aside from the occasional run in with bounty hunters and the like, though compared to other outlaws and vault hunters she was a small fish. Still that didn’t stop her from tacking up her first wanted poster over the dashboard of her runner when she saw it posted at some backwater station. Troy had laughed at that, mostly because her bounty was only a few thousand over 10k credits. Still the thrill that ran through her when she saw it the first time.

“Should I get like a spatula or something?” 

She turns to look over her shoulder to see Tyreen staring back in her looking rather amused. The Calypso Siren had forgone a good deal of her usual layering, a combination of the heat and a lazy summer night in.

“You might, I feel like a fucking egg.” she whines, propping her chin up in her hand. “Why did you guys insist on building in this place, uugghhh.”

“You seem to spend an awful lot of time here for all the complaining that you do.” Tyreen laughs, placing a hand on her hip and cocking her brow.

She rolls over, propping herself up on her elbows and crinkles her nose at the other woman.

“You guys have some good stuff.” 

“I’m sure that’s the only reason.” Tyreen’s eyes are sharp, daring, but mirth lay dancing in the corner of her gaze.

“Ugggghhhh.” She collapses on her back, kicking out her feet, the metal of her heels making an awful grating sound against the metal below her as she squirms. 

“Ah yes, I see you are very adult.” the Siren mocks.

She reaches for her goggles that had slipped from her forehead to her neck and pulls them taut, stretching the elastic as she arches her back and continues her mock tantrum.

“I have a Master’s degreeeeeeeeee.” she whines. Tyreen guffaws.

“I can totally tell.”

She continues her little pout and writhe mostly for show and earns a ‘tsk.’

“Don’t roll off the edge Master’s degree.” 

She can hear the retreating footsteps of the other woman’s heels and she slowly lays still on the balcony, realizing that her childish display only made her more sweaty and uncomfortable from the exertion. 

“Fuck this.” she grits heaving herself up into a sitting position and wildly began ripping at her clothing. The buttons on her vest slipping against her clammy fingers; when that was off, her shirt manages to get caught on her chin and goggles, pulling her hair and not in a good way. She knew her frustration was only making her job more difficult but as each article refused to come off willingly she just fought against it more.

Finally just down to her undergarments she paused briefly, weighing the situation. Honestly, at this point in her life she didn’t care who saw her bare ass and it wasn’t like the followers were allowed in this area of the sanctum. Off came her discolored bra, only she removed it with such zeal it slung-shot from her hands and over the railing. She paused...well someone below will have a nice souvenir.

Finally she pulls down her panties (ugh she hated that word) only to have the band get stuck in the tight metal just below the couplings of her her metal legs...not the first time this had happened, but one would think you would learn after so many years of having prosthetic limbs below the knee. After a moment of fiddling she flusters and tugs, ripping them completely and tossing the ruined material aside. 

Great now she had no underwear.

The thought didn’t plague her for long as she almost aggressively rolled over, sprawling along the balcony. A shaky, satisfied groan escaped her lips as the cold metal kissed her bare skin. This was the most comfortable she had felt all day...well aside from the shower. 

Sighing she folded her arms and rests her head against them, allowing herself to enjoy the feeling of freedom and heat relief. Every so often she’d shift, only slightly, like she did when she was a child on hot night, searching out cool untouched sheets as she lay in bed.

The night was surprisingly still here, despite the number of residences and wildlife outside the walls, and she lay content, enjoying it all. So content that she hadn’t heard the heavy footsteps approaching. 

There was a sudden weight on the back of her thighs and then narrow, clothed hips against her ass, she could feel his belt buckle digging into the meat of one of her cheeks. Out of the corner of her eyes she saw the massive metal hand brace itself beside her and she could feel his heat radiating off him...she groaned, she had just escaped some of the stifling temperature and here he was with his big stupid body crowding her in.

His hair tickles her spine before she felt the tip of his nose brushes between her shoulder blades, slowly moving upwards, she could feel the ghost of his lips against her neck; he hums lowly.

She can smell him; dust; like electronics after heavy us; salt and machine oil; she had to admit, at least to her it was a heady smell, and she can’t help but talk a deep breath through her nose.

“Troy.” she turns her head, resting her cheek against her folded arms but doesn’t bother to glance at him.

“Mena.” there a smile in his voice and it’s smug. He leans close nipping at her ear.

Normally she would very much welcome his close proximity, but he was already generating so much heat. At least from what she could tell in her current position he was wearing his usual jacket but still.

“Ugh too hot.” she grunts at him.

“Mmmmm being a flatterer? Why thank you.” he coos in her ear.

“Oh my goooooood.” she can feel her eyes wanting to roll.

“And the compliments keep coming.” he is so smug.

At this her eyes open and she hoists herself up onto her elbows, he gives her some breathing room but not much.

“I’m going to wring that long handsome neck of yours.” she bites back.

“Oooo didn’t know it was that kind of night.” she feels him playfully cant his hips against her backside.

“Has anyone ever told you, you’re a smug ass?” she ask looking over her shoulder at him.

“Mmmmm most don’t get the chance, aside from Tyreen.” she can feel his flesh and blood hand smooth up the her side; calloused fingertips coming to press against her ribs.“I can leave you to your weird rolling about under the moonlight if you like.”

She grumbles at his teasing but presses her ass back against his pelvis; she could already feel the outline of him through the worn material.

“I could continue my roll around...with company.” she feels him twitch and harden further; with all his bravado, he certainly riled up easily. 

The chuckle he makes comes out as more of a breathy sound and he leans in again, nuzzling into the crook of her neck, nose against her skin as he take a deep inhale. 

“I can’t smell very good.” she says but tilts her head to the side for him nonetheless.

He growls in the back of his throat and laves a long wet line across her skin; his hand slipping from her ribs to her hip.

She wonders if this position might be a bit difficult for him, he’s all encompassing, all lean, hard lines and ridiculously tall...and she...she’s compact...probably no taller than his sibling maybe even slightly shorter. If someone was to walk passed she doubted they would even notice she was underneath him.

She snorts at the idea of someone thinking that Tory would just be writhing on the ground for no reason other than just to writhe. 

The sound obviously caught his attention because, his hand was suddenly pressing against her throat and his lips at her ear. 

“Something distracting you?” his voice is low and she has to stop herself from swooning.

“Mmmm just thinking of something funny.” it sounds bratty and she knows it.

His fingers twitch against her throat and a breathy hiccup escapes from her; can’t play coy forever, especially not with him.

“Let’s get your mind off that, and on to something else.” His hips grind down against her ass and her mouth practically waters at the feeling of him; she doesn’t know how he still has his pants on.

She turns her head slightly to nip at his jaw.

“And by on something else you mean your dick.” she enunciates the ‘k’ with a harsh bite against his heated skin.

“So goddamn crass!” he scolds, though out of the corner of her eye she can the amused, feral slant tugging at his lips.

“What can I say, I call it like I see it.” She arches back against him and he curls into her.

Her ears pick up the sound of his metal arm, scraping against the ground beside her and then he growls.

“Enough talk.” She knows he’s in command and she lets the shiver of anticipation run the length of her body, head to...well if one was counting only the fleshy bits, head to knees. But hell he even made her prosthetics feel like they were shivering.

His flesh and blood hand moves from her neck, fingers brush against her flank before she hears him start to fumble with his belt buckle. She can feel it then, cold and unyielding; his metal arm coming in closer and caging her in. Leaning further against the mechanical construct he takes the hint; multi tasking as he brings the overly large fingertips to her lips. 

She never hid how much she liked his prosthetics; with prosthetics of her own and a previous, illustrious ...but brief career with Hyperion working with robotics and weaponry it was hard not to like it. Or at the very least admire. 

Cool metal pressed against her lips and slowly she pulls one of the long digits into her mouth sighing around it as her tongue presses into it. Troy let out an animalistic snarl; he doesn’t have sensation in the appendage but she knows how much he relishes the sight of her enjoying him. 

When she feels him tug his pants down and press himself full against her she moan and bites at the metal in her mouth. His hot puffs of breath fan against the side of her face and neck as he begins to lazily roll his hips against her; she presses back eagerly unashamed of her desire for him.

She told him every so often; not enough to over inflate his ego further than it already was; he was handsome, devilishly so...how ironic he was was being worshiped like a God. 

The scrap of his teeth along her jaw, drags her somewhat out of her haze and then his fingers are moving from her mouth until they are flexing around her neck. The hand and attached digits are so large they won’t fit comfortably around her throat, so he holds her in place with his index, middle and thumb.

“I thought I was going to wring your neck.” she breathes out, the metal hold tightens against her skin and she mewls, her ass pressing against his straining length. 

“I wonder how much you would let me do with this…” he coos lowly, flexing the fingers again.

“I’m adventurous, I’ll try anything once.” she manages to reply, though her voice is shaky and needy. Oh she definitely would try anything with him once.

He chuckles, ducking his head resting his forehead against her shoulder as he ruts against her.

“Next time pet.” he rumbles, giving her flesh a sound bite before rising up slightly; his metal hand leaves her neck and she goes to protest; he quickly shushes her. 

He begins to pull her hips up and she moves to get on her hands and knees but his hand comes to press between her shoulder blades forcing her chest back against the floor. His metal hand, a firm steadying presence on her raised hips. 

His hand lingers for a moment, hips slowly moving against her as he slides his length against the cleft of her ass. She moans and pouts; already dripping, she doesn’t need anymore of his teasing, but that’s never stopped him in the past.

“Look at you.” he purrs his hand smoothing up her spin, calluses catching on her skin. “Mmmmm like you’re worshiping at an alter.”

She wanted to say something, something bratty or smart, but he had her head spinning; so instead she whines and tries again, pressing her ass back against him.

“Yes…” he murmurs and she feels him lining himself and she nearly praises whatever God might exist when his tip catches against her. “So fucking…” and he slides himself in to the hilt. “Perfect” his voice dissolves into a chuckling groan. 

Her mouth hangs open but no sound comes out, she’s so full, never quiet entire sure how he fits each time they do this; Troy Calypso is anything but average. He presses himself further almost painfully so, his hip bones digging into her cheeks.

“Quiet for once?” He says his own voice is gravelly and hushed.

She weakly glares at him, craning her neck just slightly to get a look at his smug face.  
“Can’t have that now.” with that he begins a languid pace, one that has her squirming on his cock.

Every part of her feels alive, her nerves are dancing, the feeling of metal fingers pressing into the meat of her thigh, so tight she’s sure he’ll leave bruises. The feeling of his nails scraping along her spine; the jut of his hips when he comes to press into her fully. Even the feeling of his pants scratching against the back of her thighs, slung just low enough that he could free himself. It’s all so incredibly decadent and she wants more, more of him and and everything he’s willing to offer.

She starts to moan in earnest now, not caring to keep up their little back and forth, it’s too much effort and he’s giving her so much. 

It’s amazing how fast he has her teetering on the edge, it’s not fair; it should be criminal. She needs just a bit more, the fire growing in her belly, the spring coiling tighter and tighter, just a bit more. 

“Troy…” his name slips past her lips in a prayer. 

“Ahhhhh there it is.” his voice is a low rumble in his chest; then his calloused fingers are pressing against the bundle of nerves above her aching core. “You just had to ask.”

She keens the pressure and measured petting overwhelming; she comes, whispering and cursing his name over and over until her body begins to sag and his ministrations become too overstimulating. 

Above her Troy sighs, basking in the feeling of the aftermath of her orgasm, her muscles twitching around him as he continues his brutal pace. As she slumps further against the cool metal of the balcony he leans in, his body blanketing hers.

“I think you have one more in you.” he husks in her ear before licking the sweat from her jaw.

“Troooyyyy…” she whines; but god if her body doesn’t shiver at his words. 

“You are so good.” he grunts and slams into her harder than before. 

His pace ramps up and she finds herself getting pushed further and further against the floor until her hips are barely above the cool kiss of the metal. Her nerves are singing again and she’s moaning and whining unabashedly at him again. 

“So. Fucking. Good.” he hisses through gritted teeth, his pace beginning to falter. 

She’s surprised that she’s racing towards the peak again so soon after cumming; and he hasn’t even touched her. 

“Come on…” he husks. “One. More.” 

That’s all it takes, his command and she’s silently crying out as pleasure crashes over her again.

In her haze she can feel him falter and then he pulls out. She feels the hot splash of him against her back and ass and hears his rumbling, satisfied groan. 

For awhile they lay in the afterglow, heavy breathing filling the silence. Then his flesh and blood fingers are at her spine, dragging through the mess he made before bringing it to her lips.

“Oh so I get to clean up the mess you made?” she huffs, but it’s all for show as she takes the offering into her mouth. 

“I’m surprised you complain so much for something you very much seem to enjoy.” his voice is raw, sated.

She hums around his fingers and nips him one last time for good measure when he goes to move. 

Slowly she settles, her body heavy and pleased as the sweat cools on her skin; behind her she can hear Troy moving about and then it’s quiet. After awhile she wonders if he wandered off, a wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am; and she hates that the idea of that hurt. 

Something slams into the back of her head; she whips around as it falls to her side...a pillow and a rag?

“Nice reflexes.” Troy’s walking back out onto the balcony, pillow under his arm and a worn sheet in his grasp, he must have removed his pants fully as well because he’s on full display.

“Walking around in the full nude now? Is this going to be a new requirement for joining the fold? Oooo gonna broadcast it?” she taunts using the rag he had tossed a her to clean the rest of his drying cum from her back. 

He chuckles as he comes to lay down beside her, throwing the sheet lazily over the lower half of their bodies. 

“I think that’s reserved for a special few.” he’s smug, the grin pulling at his lips sharp. 

“Ooo what an honor then.” she replies, pulling the pillow under her chin and folding her arms beneath it. 

“It’s true, you get to witness a rare honor, a blessing really.” she groans and rolls her eyes. 

“Alright there big guy.” he laughs and lazily slings his arm over her back as he settles down. 

A quite settles between them, the sounds of the desert filling the silence.

“Were you serious about next time with the arm?” she asks

The sound he makes is somewhere between a growl and a chuckle and he leans over to nip at her shoulder.


End file.
